the turcot interchange was originally built as a “dramatic” display of montreal’s global position as a metropolis, yet it has become a crumbling problem. its design accommodated both ships and trains to pass underneath its expansive footprint and in this case, deviant youth.

inspired by the massive amount of snow that had fallen and continued to fall we decided to go out into the night and try to capture some of it’s enchantment. out in the alley we attempted to get some action shots of jumping off dumpsters into the puffy blanket but all that produced was strange ghostly flashes. we did however manage to catch this magical moment. it arguably took all the chaos of the universe to procure this chance encounter.

pigeons sit on electrical wires, vests puffed, toes warming.but, they are anxious there and take flight, only to become cold and lonely again, wanting return to their friendly wire.

columba livia; the rock dove; the pigeon.

pigeons came across the atlantic as food, for colonists, starting in the 1600s.these pretty, feral, winged, city-rats breed four to five times a year. there have been attempts to halt their successful reproduction with serious measures, like electrical fences and food stuffed with contraceptives.

there is something special about carrying things around on the ends of sticks. there is also something humorous about going around looking through people’s recycling for tin cans and then hammering holes into them with some finishing touches of garbage bag fringe. some things take a stretch of the imagination and a little bit of effort.

over the last little while i have been developing this sort of theory that people are ok with garbage accumulating in certain places. maybe it is that they don’t really notice the piles or maybe it is the unwritten language of city, proper etiquette if you will. it seems partly due to the patterns of human behavior, the necessity of these neutral spots and there is definitely a location issue (slightly off the main street, tucked into a recess, never in someone’s front lawn). it seems that over time these spots become even more useful, somewhat like a reusing center but free, anonymous, ever changing; a reflection of the community itself.